One Dark Knight
by Lady Elora
Summary: Riley Conrad’s past has become a festering wound ever since a fatal accident nearly two years ago. But when the Joker comes to Gotham, can Bruce help her heal the rift in her heart? Or will the Joker destroy Riley, and Batman, forever? Extended Summary wi
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own or pretend to own anything relating to Batman Begins, the characters, or the actors. (Sigh) But I do own my plot and my own characters . . . so please respect my territory. :)

**Note to the Reader: **I decided it was time to drag this fic out from it's current obscurity so here it is. I'm working on an original work of fiction so currently this fic's updates will be few and far between... but they are coming:) So... coming out of it's Hiatus... here is **One Dark Knight**.

**Extended Summary:** Riley Conrad's past has become a festering wound ever since a fatal accident nearly two years ago. Living alone with her elder brother, Riley's past has done more then steal her family away from her... it nearly destroyed her. Now, living in the slums of Gotham, Riley has no idea how far her brother has fallen... or how much more has been taken from her. Now the Joker is in town and Batman will have something to say about it. But when he goes after Riley... for no apparent reason... will Batman be able to save her? Or will both Bruce, and Riley, be destroyed by a secret that once nearly killed her... a secret that no one was suppose to find out.

**Rating:**One Dark Knight is rated:'**T**' for violence and mild language.

* * *

_**Prologue**_

_I stared sullenly out my window...or what was my poor excuse for a window anyway. The glass had long since lost its clearness and I had to rub a clean spot through the smoke stains in order to look up at the sky. I breathed deeply in relief as I caught a glimpse of the moon. I would never see the stars, not in this hell hole. _

_I pulled my knees to my chest as I sat still on my bed. I was cursed to be here. It was my lot in life. I could hardly remember the stories my parents used to tell me about how Gotham used to be. Before the Depression, before this filth destroyed us. _

_But now my parents are gone, and so are the forgotten memories of Gotham before this. Of a Gotham where good people actually lived. I rest my chin on my knees, determined not to cry, not now. A stray lock of my curly brown hair escaped my lose ponytail and fell into my eyes, obscuring the moon from me once more. _

_It was all too easy to choke out the light. It was all too easy to destroy any hope I had for my life. In Gotham, darkness ruled. And I was a fading flame. _

_The Darkness is choking me now. _

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	2. Gotham

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing of Batman, Bruce Wayne, or Christian Bale. (Though I wish I did. (Sigh)) They all belong to their respective owners.

* * *

**One Dark Knight**

**Chapter One**

Gotham

**Chapter Quote:** "To what? Stay off the streets of Gotham?"

* * *

_"Gotham was once a place of beauty, of light! We can fight the darkness if we would only rid the city of that darkness!"_

I sidled past the old man standing on the crate by the street corner, keeping my head low and blocking his words from my mind. 'What you've never had, you'll never miss'- that's what my brother says to me all the time.

Only I missed them because those days had once been mine though they seem to have past from recollection or memory. I used to listen to dreams of the golden days, but the golden days are gone. And by the looks of things, they aren't coming back anytime soon. The streets looked as though we had been waging a war, when we were really only trying to survive.

This is what Gotham is now.

The rich few and the poor many.

Justice is corrupt, and with the fall of justice came the fall of our city. I do not look at anyone as I pass, I've gone through too much to stop now. It is so hard for me to leave the house...I can trust no one. I hate being out alone.

_"We must unite against this evil! Only together-"_

But I am too far away to hear him now. No one will unite, because no one knows what will happen. And what the people of Gotham fear most, is the unknown. Gotham will never unite old man, we are all alone.

I stop at the door of the building I had been looking for, and with a sigh of relief, I walk in.

* * *

"Riley Conrad?"

I looked up at the nurse who had called my name. She does not smile and neither do I. She is old, tired oflife. As I am. Only I am young, not old enough to feel as she does. And yet I do.

I am 26.

She has years on me that I hope never to live here. But how can I leave? This is all I have left. The hospital on this side of Gotham does its best to stay clean, but as I said before, the hospital is on _this _side of Gotham. And it will never be perfect. But at least this part is decent, that is a blessing at least. I rise and the nurse leads me to a small room and points to the cushioned table in the room's center.

"Have a seat, the doctor will be in, in a moment."

I do as she says and as I sit on the table, I hear the door close. I look down at myself. I am wearing a grey, long sleeve shirt, a denim jacket over top, and a pair of dark navy blue jeans. My work boots have long since faded from the ranks of fashion, but there is no fashion down here in this side of Gotham anyway. I pull off my jacket and throw it on a chair in the corner- just as the door opens again.

"Hello Miss Conrad, how are we feeling today?" Comes the bright, cheery voice of Dr. Grahm. Dr. Grahm is an elderly man, married, and one who should have retired happily out in the country years ago. But unlike most of the people in Gotham, he cares deeply about those abandoned in the darkness. He wants to change things, and for this reason, he has become almost a father to me. I smile and look shyly up at him while he pulls a chair up to the table, but does not sit right away.

He takes out his stethoscope and listens to my heart. Then he frowns, he always frowns when he uses his stethoscope on me. "What did you do today? Your heart is racing faster then a hive of bees."

I looked away, my eyes cast down in shame. He knows how I hate going out on my own. He knows the answer to that question. I know because he never really expects me to answer. He checks my ears, then my mouth, he frowns at my eyes, and then he finally sits in the chair. He tells me to lay down, and I do so.

The process is second nature to me by now, I have done it so often before. He puts a mask on my face to make me sleep. Dr. Grahm is kind. The medicine relieves my pain, though that's not the reason he uses it. I do not understand why he has me do this, but then again, I do not understand a great many things. But this sleep he puts me in does something else too, I can finally feel at rest. Because I know he will take care of me.

I do not really feel that way about anyone anymore.

* * *

_Wayne Manor_

* * *

It had taken a year to complete the mansion, but, brick for brick it had been restored to its former glory. Brick for brick- except for the small addition to the south wing of course. But that was something entirely confidential. Bruce Wayne smiled as he looked over the plans for the cave below. No expense had been spared, no detail overlooked. That sort of thing is easy when you are a billionaire. Wayne Enterprises was thriving, business couldn't be better.

This is Bruce Wayne, tall, athletic, dark haired- and one of the wealthiest and most influential man in America. The man who basked in luxury. The man who is on the outside. Bruce grimaced as he rubbed a fresh pain in his shoulder.

Until the mansion had been restored he had not wanted to make too many appearances, not until the new cave had been completed. It had been risky, but with a lot of subtlety, and a few flat out lies, the cave had been completed almost immediately, and the criminals of Gotham had once again been forced to deal with the dark knight. This new pain was due to his latest particular outing.

Bruce scowled as he recalled the pipe which so heavily bruised his upper arm and chest. He was lucky, but he had been careless. And as Batman, he could not afford to make mistakes. It must never happen again. Bruce looked out the window of his study. It was Fall, the time of year he had always enjoyed most. Only a few of his estate's many trees had been destroyed in the fire, so the rolling hills and acreage was now covered with the leaves of many others.

Now the mansion was complete, and now he could really get back to work. Bruce looked down att he plastic bag he held in his hand, the bag which held the joker playing card. He slipped it quickly into his pocket, adjusted his gaze to his laptop and got back to work.

* * *

Benjamin Conrad is a tall, black-haired young man. Yet lines from a lifetime's worth of sorrows have already pressed themselves onto his youthful face. His is no longer carefree, though barely at the age of thiry-two.

He walked cautiously to the hospital, and pushed the door open without breaking his stride. The lady behind the desk looks up as he enters, nods, and points to a room.

"Riley is in there, Ben. She'll be awake in a few minutes, then you can take her home."

Ben nodded, smiling slightly at the red-haired nurse. "Thanks Kim." Kim smiled back, ever so slightly in return, and looked away but not before Ben saw a noticeable addition of redness to her cheeks.

This is routine for him now, though seeing Kim is a bright spot in his usual dreary life. He walks to the door and stops before it, taking a deep breath, he then gently turns the knob. Inside the room, all light is focused on an unconscious body laying still on a cushioned table. The sight of his sister laying so still sent a shudder down his spine as a sudden, unbidden and unwanted memory dallied about at the edge of his mind. He had seen too much death, and her stillness...it unnerved him.

Riley was still wearing the anesthesia mask and her chest rose slowly with sleep. Ben frowned at the sight of wires attached to her bare stomach and to her forehead. He grimaced as his gaze fell upon the restraints on her ankles and wrists. And he knew wordlessly that Riley was not improving.

"The medication hasn't been helping I take it?" Came the fatherly voice of Dr. Grahm from behind him. Ben turned to shake the older man's hand before shaking his head.

"She doesn't sleep much anymore, even with the sedative pills."

Dr. Grahm nodded, he gestured to her sleeping form. "Her scars are healing nicely, and her heart condition is lessening. But the excessive brain activity is what troubles me..." He drifted off for a moment, lost in thought before turning to Ben again. "She doesn't leave the house much I take it."

Ben shook his head again. "She will if I take her, but with work as it is..." He shrugged helplessly. "I can't take care of her like that anymore."

Dr. Grahm pursed his lips, pondering silently on this thought. "Send her over to my house on Thursday. My wife is doing some gardening then and I think being around plants will help Riley's healing process."

Ben's face flooded with relief as Dr. Grahm spoke these words. "Thank you so much Doctor...how we ever repay you?"

"No payment is needed Ben. I knew your father...and well...it's the least I can do." A small beeping penetrated their conversation, a small red light started to flash on one of the doctor's many machines. "Ah." He said, pleasure evident in his voice as he walked over to the table. "She's waking up."

* * *

I knew by the way my breathing sounded that I was still wearing the mask. I opened my eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the bright light that I half-way knew to expect by now. All the familiar images surrounded me as Dr. Grahm turned off the lights one by one.

I was too tired to speak as he removed the mash from my face and undid the restraints on my ankles and wrists. I looked up at him and he smiled kindly.

"Well done Miss Conrad. I believe you are progressing with your treatment." He began to remove the wires from my forehead and I sighed as I heard the machines around me slowly start to shut down. "You seem to be doing better Riley."

I wanted to laugh because I knew by his tone of voice that he's lying. My gaze was still blurry, but it's always like that once I wake up again. My respirator aids are gone, as are the wires on my stomach and I blinked again as someone else came over to the table.

"How you feeling Riley?"

I smiled gently at Ben as Dr. Grahm helped me to sit up. My head spun for a moment and I clutched to the elderly man's arm until my world righted itself once more. I felt Ben's hand on my shoulder and I looked up at him. "I'm feeling better." I said softly, I lowered my gaze for a moment and, looking for a distraction, I re-adjusted my shirt. Ben helped me to my feet and handed me my jacket, all the while steadying my drunken steps as the medication wears off. I still feel light-headed from the anesthesia, but I never feel terribly sick afterwards...just weak. Dr. Grahm said that was unusual, but probably due to the over activity in my brain.

I didn't care very much now. I just wanted to go home.

"I told your brother, Riley, that you are welcome to come over on Thursday, my wife will be needing help with her gardening." Dr. Grahm lived on the far side of the city...he had a wonderful yard, with all sorts of beautiful flowers. His house looked like something out of a storybook... and children would play outside- laughing in the streets instead of crying like they did where I lived. Actually... most of the children where I lived didn't talk much at all. They all had the same, dull look in there eyes. The kind that show you've lived a hard life. Children's eyes are the only ones I look into... I don't like talking or looking at regular people for too long. But I like children... I always have.

I looked timidly at Ben and he nodded at me encouragingly. "I'll drop you off Riley...you won't have to go alone."

My mind flooded with relief. I turned back to Dr. Grahm and nodded. "Thanks for the invitation... I'll come."

Dr. Grahm smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. "Then we'll be expecting you. I also expect you'll be here next week at the usual time?"

I nodded. I was here every Monday with Dr. Grahm, he knew it as well as I. My head had stopped spinning as fiercely as it had been previously, but I found it difficult to move still. So that when Ben moved for the door, I had to lean heavily on his shoulder.

"Take care of yourself Riley." Dr. Grahm warned as we walked out. I looked back at him with a slightly more confident smile.

"I always do." I replied softly.

* * *

I had always liked to draw. It released my feelings without words. I didn't always like words. They came from me at too high a cost. My words meant others' pain. I was mostly silent as Ben drove home, the sun setting in the sky. "How are you doing?" He asked, gesturing to my back with a slight wave of his hand.

I shrugged, rubbing my right shoulder. "It's healing." I said simply, avoiding his questioning gaze. Ben did not say anything as we sat there. Then he pursed his lips in thought and refocused his eyes on the road ahead.

"You should go out more Riley."

I stubbornly shook my head.

"It isn't healthy..."

"To what? Stay off the streets of Gotham?" I asked softly.

Ben doesn't answer, and I know that I am difficult to deal with.

"You used to you know." He says slowly. As if I could forget what used to be. I wanted to forget the day it all happened, the day everything changed...but I couldn't. I looked out my window towards the setting sun.

"People change." I murmured.

* * *

**A/N: **Reviews are welcome. These first chapters will focus mainly on Riley before they include Bruce, but be patient. All will come in good time. Reviews are welcome. :)

edit Re-formatted this chapter and I edited it a little. Riley is now twenty-six in case anyone was curious. :) /edit

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	3. Playing Cards

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing of Batman, Bruce Wayne, or Christian Bale. (Though I wish I did. (Sigh) They all belong to their respective owners.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Playing Cards

**Chapter Quote: "**I love you Riley, don't you ever forget that."

* * *

Bruce turned the card over in his hand, it was a strange way to leave your mark. The whole business was strange altogether. Criminals did not leave behind their own calling cards. Bruce knew their minds, he knew how the acted and how they moved. But this one...this one was different, and his calling card...was pointless. A gloat... a mark of victory... or a challenge. So either this new man was incredibly naive, or insanely clever. The frown on Bruce's face deepened, "A flare for theatrics." He said softly, it was what Sergeant Gordon had told him that knight on the rooftops, the night the latter had truly started to work with him as a team.

So far, this _Joker _had not done anything terribly big...nothing to stand out. It was simply the way in whichhis strikes were done that made him a target on Bruce's priority list...some events were just too coincidental. A few disturbing mugs and resultingmurders...one or two petty thefts...nothing all that unusual. Such crime had the tendency to frequent the lower classes of Gotham. Bruce knew it fit together somehow, but as of yet...this was a puzzle he was still trying to piece together.

The raids had come periodically in random places, and no one had been able to stop them. No one yet anyway. Every time he had been too late...that would have to change. The cave was completed now, and now he was done waiting. "A flare for theatrics." He repeated slowly, Bruce grinned, looking at the case which contained his suit.

"I guess we have something in common then."

* * *

"Good morning Master Bruce." Alfred said cheerfully, Bruce looked up from his computer with a surprised look on his face.

"Is it morning already?"

"It is indeed sir."

"Don't tell me the time."

"Don't forget, you have a meeting at eight sir."

He flinched, looked hesitantly down at his watch. Four in the morning. _Damn._ It was late. He sat back in his chair and stretched out his legs, looking around the cave. The southeast wing had been refurbished, and now was equipped with some minor electronics...a 6 foot tall monitor for his computer...some new gadgets for his car...nothing big or flashy. The computer was his favorite though...and right then...he was trying to dig up something on his new rival.

Alfred interrupted his train of thought by holding out a steaming mug to him, which Bruce accepted gratefully. "Coffee?" He asked hopefully, taking a hesitant sip.

"Of course sir, I thought you might want Hot Chocolate, but assumed in the end that you might require something a little stronger."

Bruce chuckled, yes, it had been a long night...and it would be an equally long and exhausting day as soon as the rest of Gotham woke up...and then he would once again begin life as Bruce Wayne. Multi-Billionaire, owner of Wayne Enterprises, one of the richest men in the world, and the only one who could lay claim to the name of Batman.

"Will you be up much longer Master Bruce? Or should I begin to make you some breakfast?"

Bruce shook his head, "I'm fine Alfred, I'll make myself something to eat. I won't be much longer."

The older man nodded, hesitated before he voiced the question that had been toying with his mind all night. "Out of curiosity sir...what exactly are you working on?"

Bruce sipped his coffee and gestured to the monitor. "That, my dear Alfred, is our new mystery man."

Alfred looked up as Bruce tapped a key and a large image appeared on the screen. A clown face, done in graffiti on the walls of their man's latest crime scene. "Seems to be rather...bold." Alfred finished lamely, grasping for the words to describe the maniacal face on the walls.

"Indeed. Only no one knows what this guy looks like, or where he'll try to strike next. No one knows what he's after."

Alfred nodded slowly, "So what exactly are you planning to do sir?"

Bruce scratched his chin absentmindedly, "I'm not sure Alfred. Either way, it means I'll be up late for a while."

* * *

I hated being by myself, but, as Ben always reminded me, it was my fault. I wouldn't go out anyway without him, and neither would I settle for a job. There were always too many difficulties, too many memories. Too much for me to handle. I sat on my bed, stretching out my arms and doing the exercises Dr. Grahm had told me to do. He said certain movements would tighten the scarred tissue on my back, so, that one day, I might become strong once again.

It was getting dark out. I shuddered, I hate being alone at night. I stopped my exercises and clasped my hands together, bowing my head and closing my eyes. _Please God, let him come soon._

* * *

_"MOM!" I screamed, tearing at the burning embers. I could hear horses screaming as the fire raged all around. _

_"MOM?" I shoved past the ashes, the smoke and the flames, scorching m_y _back and my arms. I ignored the pain, the heat which was making my eyes water..._

* * *

_Wayne Enterprises_

* * *

"...to conclude, Mr. Wayne, sales are up and stocks are selling well."

Bruce tried to hide his smile as Fox wrapped up his status report. His dark eyes were focused intently on the man as he stood attentive before his desk. "Very good Mr. Fox. How's the transfer of our archives building going by the way?"

The elder man's eyes lighted with untold mischief. "Well, sir, before I answer that question, might I inquire as to whether or not you would be dabbling into any...say...adventurous sports in the near future? The archives is under my general direction and at this time I could be of some great assistance if the need made itself known."

This time Bruce didn't bother to hide his smile, Fox was clever all right, clever indeed. "None at the moment Lucius, but I'll let you know if something comes up."

Fox smiled, nodded his head slightly in understanding. "Will you be leaving soon Mr. Wayne? Is there anything else I can do?" Fox said, slipping briefly into a more formal tone.

"Shortly. I think Alfred whipped up something special for me tonight...wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

Fox nodded again, turned to leave, then paused and looked back. "Bruce, try to get some sleep." He said softly.

Bruce looked up at him in surprise. "Since when are you the general keeper of my well-fare?"

Fox grunted, "Since you started coming into work looking like you got hit by a train."

Bruce shrugged, the only non-committal reply he could come up with for his friend's genuine concern for his health. "I've been busy, that's all, really nothing to worry about."

Fox nodded, but did not avert his gaze. "Rest Bruce, get some rest."

Bruce nodded, waving his hand as if to erase Lucius' worries. He did not reveal the frown which had forced itself upon his features until Fox left the room "Rest." He said. "Just don't have much time for it anymore."

* * *

_"Several more attacks have been reported in the upper parts of Gotham. Police say that the killings, thefts, and various other crimes do not seem to as yet be connected. Victims, either dead or close to death, have been examined closely by top specialists from all over the country. But their reason for death and who is killing them, remains a-"_

"RILEY!"

I heard Ben's voice from the door as I tore my gaze away from the television screen.

"Turn that damned thing off!"

I clicked it off immediately, not in the least sorry in doing so. Why, I wondered vaguely, I had been watching it in the first place was beyond me. I looked again over my shoulder at the door. Ben was just shutting it and he has two brown paper bags in his hands. Good. He'd gone food shopping.

I stood, dusting off my jeans and then going over to him. I stood on tip-toe and planted a kiss on his darkly tanned face. He still had his sun-glasses on, for what purpose I did not know. He smiled softly at me.

"You seem happy to have me home." He said.

"I was worried." I said simply, not letting on just how much I had worried, nor mentioning the violent flashbacks that I had been having all day. The smile faded, he cleared his throat and gestured to the bags.

"I'll bring these in the kitchen and how about you whip us up a little dinner?"

I nodded, and followed him as he moved away from the door. While he unpacked the bags, I looked at him with widened eyes. "What exactly did you want me to make?" I asked, glancing at a can of Ragu tomato sauce.

A smirk made its presence known on his face as removed his glasses and held up a package of noodles. "Pasta. I think you've forgotten what today is."

I tilted my head expectantly at him, my brow creasing in puzzlement.

"...Your birthday Riley...today's your birthday."

I blinked in surprise...it couldn't be...how could I have forgotten?

"Come on, you know I can't cook worth a damn. Get this together and after we eat I want to show you something."

I took the noodles from his hand and looked at the package. Pasta. It used to be my parents' favorite meal. Ben tilted my chin up.

"And it used to be your own...remember?"

I hid my wince and my surprise of Ben knowing my thoughts, and instead gave him a small smile. "Thanks Ben...I'll get it together."

"Good. Now hurry up. You only get to celebrate your 27th birthday once you know."

* * *

The pasta was just as good as I remembered it. And my brother surprised me with a chocolate cake for dessert. I hadn't seen Ben so happy in a long time.

"So...you ready for your surprise Riley?"

I looked up at him, slowly nodding. "As ready as I'll ever be."

He grinned and pulled out a small box, it was black velvet, with a white ribbon tied around it. He handed it to me and I took it hesitantly, relishing the softness of the velvet. I stared at it for a few moments in silence.

"Go on, open it Riley." He urged excitedly.

I glanced at him, then at the box. I slowly undid the ribbon and hesitantly opened the lid. My eyes widened and I gasped in shock. For laying, quite still on the patch of velvet, was a beautiful golden necklace. The chain was delicately woven with small gold links. And hanging at the center was a charm that spelt my name.

"Do you like it?" Ben asked after a moment.

"Ben...it's beautiful- how did you get it?" It was an awkward question. Ben knew as well as I that we did not have the money for such luxuries. Ben smiled ruefully.

"I figured it was time you had something pretty. I thought it might cheer you up."

Cheer me up? The icy chill spread through me with such swiftness that I was caught off guard. I had tried so hard to forget what had happened so long ago and in a single instant it all came crashing down on me. Today, one year ago, I had lost my family. Leaving me and Ben alone in the world. The chill made me shiver.

"Riley?" He asked in concern, rising and placing his hand on my shoulder. I flinched as he touched the old scars and he immediately let go. "Riley! I'm so sorry I-"

"No Ben- it isn't you." I said softly. I hated that concerned look on his face, the look that made me feel so guilty about being such a burden for him. He too had seen my fear, had seen the guilt written in my eyes.

"I love you Riley, don't you ever forget that." He said tenderly, tilting my head up and forcing me to look into his eyes.

"I know. The necklace is beautiful, Ben- really."

His face brightened slightly and he held out his hand. "Let me put it on you."

I handed him the box, the box with the velvet covering, and sat still as he pushed my curls over onto my shoulder. I felt the cold links touch my skin and I forced myself not to flinch or grimace.

"There, go into the bathroom and take a look."

I stood up stiffly and walked over to the mirror in the bathroom. It was beautiful, the most beautiful thing I had looked at, or possessed in a very long time. I heard his footsteps come up behind me and I saw his face in the mirror.

"What do ya think?"

I turned to him, gave him a small smile. "Thanks Ben, it's wonderful."

He smiled back and I wondered how such words from me could possibly make him so happy. His eyes roamed my shoulders and then the smile faded slightly into one of regret. "We should take care of your back and chest." He said firmly.

I nodded, choking back my pride. I would be fine as long as I stayed with Ben, he would never let anything happen to me.

"And Riley,"

I looked up into his face and was startled to see a look of fondness that was unusual to his features.

"Happy Birthday."

* * *

**A/N: **I'm glad you all are enjoying Riley, she's she strangest OC I've written so thus far and is becoming a bit of a challenge: in a good way.I will updating this story here and there in continuance to my other works. So don't expect regular updates. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

edit: 8/08/06 Ok... I'm back from the dead with this tale. I'm really obsessed with Superman Right now and once I get a plot going for him I'll be posting it. But I recently completed my major LotR story and since my Fantastic Four fic is pretty much writing itself I figured I give this one a little attention. :) As stated above, updates will be rather randomized... I'm working on writing an original work of fiction write now and between that, work, and my horses I don't have alot of time to devote to fanfiction. But since I love Batman so much I figured he deserved some well-deserved attention... I don't think I'll be able to wait two more years for the second one to come out! (wah!)

Anyway, just thought I'd let everyone who is interested in this work that I'm back from the dead and will be updating shortly. :) /edit

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	4. In the Dark

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Batman, Bruce Wayne, or Christian Bale. (Though I wish I did. (Sigh) They all belong to their respective owners.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

In the Dark

**Chapter Quote**: "We don't belong here Chapman... remember... _no one gets hurt_?."

* * *

I always enjoyed going to Dr. Grahm's house, he lived on the good part of town. The part of towm where good people, however rare, still existed. Mrs. Grahm was the sort of woman who I believed everyone wants for a grandmother. She was a wispy lady, who looked as though one, good hard wind would blow her right off her feet. Her eyes were a merry brown and her hair, once as dark a chocolate as a _Hershey's_ bar, was now streaked generously with grey. She liked to make cookies and to take care of her pretty flowers. Her only child, Mark, had died fighting overseas when he was only nineteen. She never had any other children, which made her a perfect foster mom for many of the misfit local children searching for an escape from their dreary lives. 

Even me, on the dawn of womanhood, sought to be one of those children who would frequent her house for hours...even days before returning home. We were all looking for something from Mrs. Grahm...I thought it might be the feeling of safety... maybe even love.

With this knowledge, I had never dreaded visiting her, not ever and certainly not now as Ben drove me to the Grahm's old, white-washed home. Flowers bursting from every inch of the small yard in every shape, color, and size: just like the children who came for help. The Grahm house looked like something from those fairy-tales that my mother used to read to me. I felt like I was seeing a candle in a horribly dark room. For the Grahms didn't just give me love...they gave me hope.

Ben pulled into their drive way, stopping and turning off the car before he looked over at me. "You sure you'll be ok Riley?"

I nodded, not willing myself to speak, as though the fear might creep in after I spoke any words of confidence. Ben smiled encouragingly at me and stepped out of the car, a movement I quickly followed. My straight, dark hair, nearly black, was pulled into a loose pony-tail that brushed the tips of my shoulder-blades. Lots of people back home used to day that me and Ben looked like twins...maybe we did. I have his hair, his eyes: we share the same deep hazel color. Like wheat not yet fully grown. But he never had the fears that I do...he is always so brave. I envy my brother sometimes, he does not see the world as I do...he does not _fear_ it as I do. I cross my arms across my black, hooded sweatshirt and I look down at my flared, navy blue jeans, and then down to my work-boots.

He was ahead of me and I quickly caught up, seeking his hand as we walked up the Grahm's steps._..two...three...four...five...six..._and then he knocked on the door. Mrs. Grahm answered it, a smile decorating her jovial features.

"Benjamin! Riley! I'm so happy you could come." She was dressed in a pale, plaid blue blouse and overalls that were better suited for a much larger person.

"Riley was excited, Mrs. Grahm, she couldn't pass up such an offer."

Mrs. Grahm beamed at me and I gave her a hesitant smile. "Well, won't you both come in? I've just finished making some cookies and-"

"With all respect, ma'am, I'd best be going. I'll be late for work." Ben interrupted quickly.

"Of course, of course. Well, be here around six o'clock for supper, Benjamin. You can pick Riley up after you eat."

Ben looked ready to protest but Mrs. Grahm held up her hand to stop him. "I insist. Now get along now Benjamin- we wouldn't want to be getting you into any trouble."

Ben smiled at her, and then glanced at me. "You be good, Riley. Try not to have too much fun without me." I gave him an almost-smile, that's what he liked to call them. He squeezed my hand and kissed my forehead. "See you later."

I waved good-bye as he got into his car and he waved back before he pulled away from the Grahms' driveway and drove back towards the darker parts of the city. I drummed my fingers against my thigh and turned back to Mrs. Grahm, she was smiling. "He's a good man, your brother."

"Yes." I whispered affectionately as I fingered the gold necklace he had given to me for my birthday.

"Well, come on then. What's you favorite cookie Riley, dear?"

"Chocolate Chip." I answered hesitantly.

"Brilliant!" She said happily, encircling a thin arm around my shoulder and gesturing inside. "That's just what I took out of the oven. Fate wouldn't you say? Let's go in and fill your stomach, you look entirely too thin my dear. Then perhaps we'll start with the flowers..."

I flinched, only slightly, at Mrs. Grahm's touch, and I smiled inside when I thought of _her_ telling _me_ that _I_ needed to fatten up. I followed her inside all the same, hoping that this would be indeed a good day...I hadn't had one of her cookies in a while.

* * *

Riley never knew much about what exactly Benjamin did for a living. She knew he held a modest position and received even more modest paychecks. She knew he always did his best to take care of her, and she knew his best was sometimes everything he had. But that was all. She never knew what exactly it was that he did to pay for all her medical bills and get food on the table. And what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. 

He drove his car further away from the Grahms' and descended deeper into the pit people still had the nerve to call, 'Gotham'. Riley never called it anything...mostly because Riley didn't like to talk about the hell-hole she was forced to call home. _Home. _Ben winced as the word came unbidden to his mind. No, this place would _never_ be the home that Riley deserved. But then again, they were never supposed to be living in Gotham anyway.

He drove slowly over to the dark building in the more run-down parts of the city. This was where rats and men ran on the same level for survival. He fought a shudder as he sidled out of his car, locked it, then hurriedly walked over to a small door and slipped inside. He worked at a sort of factory...a strange factory really. It specialized in the production of drugs- almost any kind you could think of. Ben's job was to deliver what was produced in the dimly lit factory to various places in Gotham and to the harbor where men in dark jackets waited to load the unlabeled boxes onto expectant ships- unaware of their lethal cargo.

And though it twinged somewhere in the back of his mind, food needed to get on the table and who else would hire a high-school drop-out who called the slums of Gotham home? When you hit rock-bottom you didn't have the luxury of morals. He had no other choice, this was the life that he lived.

* * *

The truck seemed exceptionally slow tonight... _or is it just me?_ Every time they rounded a corner, or stopped, or did much of anything he felt like the van would, at last, break down. Perhaps it was just the fact that, like most nights, he hated what he did for a living. 

"You wanna move it along, Ben?" Snapped the man seated next to him. Chapman was his last name... no one bothered to call him his first which Ben happened to know to be 'Seymour'. Chapman had come from a great, meaning wealthy, family once. But his parents had lost everything in the depression years ago.

His father shot himself and his mother was mugged and murdered a short time later- leaving their two sons and daughter parentless, alone, and poor as dirt. '_That is hell.'_ Chapman liked to joke. '_You can't hit a much deeper bottom then here.' _But despite the tough facade and the wise-crack jokes... Ben knew his friend hated this job as much as he did. But what else could he do? There was no moving up when you hit rock-bottom in a place like Gotham.

"I don't like driving fast." Ben grumbled, glancing in his rear-view mirror at the streets as they drove passed. Most people were huddled around trash can fires... trying to get warm. Others made themselves comfortable in the shelters they had made. Every so often you saw people getting mugged or watched as some girl got dragged -kicking and screaming- into a dark alley. But you never interfered... that was just the way things were. Chapman glared at him from his seat.

"Yeah I know... but you ain't driving fast... I think a turtle with a busted head could move quicker then you're driving."

Ben remained sullenly silent.

"Come _on _Ben. I gotta get home. Jake and Lou are waiting up for me tonight."

Ben scowled. "I don't like this business anymore then you do." He half-growled. "_Hell_... if Riley knew what I've been doing..."

Chapman snorted. "What... she think you're a clerk at some bank or something?"

Ben shot him a warning glare and Chapman threw up his hands in defeat. "Geez- sorry. I know she's a mite touched in the head..." He shook his head and then snorted again- this time in disgust. "Besides... what have you been doing Ben?" He asked, cutting him off before Ben could reply. "Think about it. You've kept yourself and your sister from starving. You got a roof over your heads. You take care of her... _that's_ what you're doing. And you're doing what you hafta to keep at it."

Chapman's green eyes glinted as he slicked back blond hair and cracked his neck. "Let's just get this over with... all right?"

Ben didn't reply... he merely grunted. They were supposed to be delivering this shipment to an abandoned warehouse about a half-hour away from the factory. Usually they helped pack up the boxes but this time their boss, a fella called Seth, had nervously snapped at them to load up and had rushed them out of the factory. Neither Ben nor Chapman knew exactly what they were shipping tonight... which was unusual. But Seth had been so upset neither had felt like braving his anger either.

So they were supposed to drop it, no questions asked, and then leave. Simple. He'd done similar drop-offs hundreds of times before. This one was no different... _right? _"You just make sure no one gets hurt, Chapman." He said gruffly.

"_Dammit_ Ben- I told you, you do what you got to do. No limits."

Ben sighed. Yeah... he knew. He turned the van into an old parking lot and headed for the garage. There were six men there waiting for them- just as Seth had said there would be. "See... I told you. Just like clock work." Chapman said triumphantly.

Ben stopped the van and Chapman pulled on a black cap, an effort to protect his ears from the approaching winter's chill. There never seemed to be any warmth down here. It was easy sometimes to forget the sun even existed. Rubbing his gloved hands together, he slipped out the door and gave the waiting men a friendly wave. None of them returned it. "Stiffs... the lot of them." He grumbled good-naturedly, "No questions Ben." He repeated to him as Ben slipped out onto the broken pavement.

Ben shook his head ruefully. "There never has been, Chapman... never will be."

* * *

Gotham was dark at night... not the kind of dark before you switch on a light. It was the kind when you wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare and the blackness around you makes you relive you worst fears. It was the kind of darkness that bit at the very interior of a being... at a person's very _soul. _Perhaps that was one of the attributes to the horror the masked crusader brought to the villains of Gotham. 

Everyone in Gotham knew that bats like darkness most of all and that the Batman was no different. His kingdom was veiled in darkness... a kingdom over which he ruled supreme. And, standing, on the rooftops of the city, and surveying the activities going on below- it was not likely to think that this night would be different from any others.

_But it was. _Mused the dark knight. _Every single one is different. _

_Always. _

* * *

The men at the warehouse unloaded their precious cargo quickly. No one cared much for the late night drop offs anymore- it had become too dangerous with the oversized rodent flying about. 

"Ten more to go." Chapman called out softly to the men who scrambled to get the boxes into the building under the watchful eyes of their employer who stood only a little ways from them- conveniently hidden in the darkness beneath the eaves of the warehouse roof. The words, however softly spoken, made Ben grimace and the rest of them glared daggers at him before glancing nervously up into the sky.

"Move it along." Said a gravelly voice coming from the lone figure watching the progress of his merchandise. Ben glared at him- but said nothing. _Riley would be at the Grahm's still... would be wondering why he wasn't back yet_. The shipment had taken longer then usual and he was impatient to leave. _Riley would be worried... and Mrs. Grahm had probably switched on her favorite TV show, Little House on the Prairie, to ease her nerves. She'd need her bandages changed... Damn! _He grimaced again as he realized his error. Dinner at the Grahms... he'd completely forgotten.

She would be furious with him now. Would probably be too upset to sleep that night. With a groan of frustration he pounded the side of the van with his fists. The sudden noise made the others jump and the lone figure called out sharply, "Do we have a problem?"

"No sir." Ben answered quickly, cursing himself for not reigning in his temper. Mistakes like that could get him fired... or worse.

He felt Chapman's glare. "What the hell was that Ben?" His friend hissed, walking over to him as he handed off a box to a waiting man. "You want to get us both _killed_? These guys are jumpy... they'll train their guns on you in a second!"

"Sorry man." Ben replied. "I was supposed to be somewhere tonight..."

"Yeah well... keep your cool Ben! All we need is someone willing to rat us out and we won't be helping _anyone _if we're in jail."

Ben grunted again but didn't argue. With him gone Riley could be locked up in a mental asylum for her problems... he shuddered at the thought of his sister in a place like Arkham. But he was knocked from his thoughts as something loud hit his the truck.

"_What the hell was that?_"Called one of the others, turning to glare at them.

"Wasn't us." Said Chapman quickly.

There was no time to react afterwards. _He_ came soundlessly... take out each man one by one. No one had time to even fire a shot... except for the lone figure watching from within the safety of the shadows.

* * *

It was painfully simple... but there was no boastful pride in his mind as each man he felled dropped to the pavement. _Darkness._ That was the key. There were only two left now... one trying to aim a gun at him while the other looked on helplessly with fear etched into his shadowed features. The unarmed one backed into the dull light emitted from a flickering street light. 

"Don't shoot!" The unarmed one hissed to the other as Batman waited for the right moment to take them out. "Let him take the drugs... we don't need to do this-"

"Shove it Ben." Said the other, wiping sweat from his eyes as he searched for the terror of the night. "You _know _what happens to us if we bail."

"We don't belong here Chapman... remember... _no one gets hurt_?"

Chapman never answered... just before he could take them out, two shots rang out and both fell to the pavement. He turned to find the shooter and saw a pale, white hand extend from the shadows. The figure didn't emerge as he neared his hiding spot, stealthily avoiding the light as he crept along.

"Clean work, _Batty_." The voice hissed mockingly. "Leaves less of a mess for me."

Batman leapt into the shadows- ready to strike. But there was no sign of the white hand or of the smoking gun. He scanned the area for a minute or two then, satisfied that there was nobody there, he returned to the two wounded men.

One, Chapman, was dead. A clean shot straight through the skull... he stared up at Batman through sightless eyes. But the other... he was still alive. He was wounded in the shoulder, centimeters away from his heart. And he gasped in horror as Batman descended upon him. But he didn't suffer much longer- he injected him with a tranquilizer and the man soon fell limp against the pavement. Batman stood up, surveying the scene once more.

Whatever had been in the shipment was now gone... there was no doubt of that. But who had taken them... and who had fired the shots was the real question. He dialed quickly for Gordon, relayed the message and quickly explained that there was a wounded man in need of medical assistance.

Gordon said they were on their way. Quick work- but it had been messy. And there had been casualties... let alone the fact that the answers he had sought had fled into the night.

No... not good at all.

* * *

**A/N: **Finally an update. I'm obsessed with Superman right now due to the new movie, Superman Returns, and seeing it rekindled my love and fascination with my other favorite Super-hero. Hence this update. I won't be updating regularly as school will be starting up again and I'm working on writing an original novel... but this story is finally coming out if its hiatus... which should please people... I hope. :) Thanks for the reviews and I hope I get some more:) 

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


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